Power of the Dragonflame
by Nick the Raccoon
Summary: Chapter 9: Nack is bound in chains and at the mercy of his enemies... Will he find a way to escape?


Nack's Legendary Tale

Chapter 9

The Power of the Dragon Flame  
by Nick "frwl" 

Installment nine of this fiction is here! Aren't you excited? This just gets better and better!  
Ok, I've gotten a lot of complaints about killing so many people. Sorry. I'm doing things the way I planned them, so people who are gonna die are gonna die, ok?

Just sit back and enjoy the show!

Note: Fanfiction's change of story formatting is becoming suckier and suckier all the time. Thus I am now using (SCENEBREAK) instead of 5 #s or s because thinks that its formatting is kewler than my judgement. Go figure. It means that the scene before it ended and there has been a change in time or place or both even. Many of the earlier chapters don't have these... wanna know why? Cause took them out and replaced them with weird crap. Oh well. I have nothing against ; it's a great site, it's just that they're trying to hard. Oh well. On with the story!

(SCENEBREAK)

Hell.

Hell.

Hell.

I don't know what it is, I've never been there, but if it's anything like what was experienced during those days after Akron captured me... Oh Nic... now I see why your heart was so smashed after your stay with them.

"Come on!" Akron said with a smile, leading the way into his base. "Rocky is right this way!"

"You bastards!" I shouted as those two foxes continued to shove me in the direction Akron was leading. "You're gonna pay for all of this! Pay in spades!"

"Oh, I don't think so," Akron replied. "I have the Emerald Sword, Dargor, and your friends' fates all at my fingertips! I doubt you have even the smallest shred of a plan to counter all that!"

Soon, I found myself shoved into a dark, dank room made of stone blocks. "You aren't even worthy to hold that sword!" I replied.

There was a sharp crack to the back of my head, and I found myself face forward on the floor. "I hold it now!" I heard Akron yell in rage. It wasn't a fist that hit me, and when I turned I saw that he had smacked me with the grip of the sword itself. His eyes fixed on mine and they almost seemed to glow. His lips curled in rage as he spat those words out, and then he turned and left me there.

I hated that echidna. I hated his guts. All he did was bring pain to me; pain and anger. What had I ever done to him? Nothing of course. He just lived to make others miserable.

"Oh no," A voice came to my ears from the darkness. "Not you too." I turned and squinted, trying to see who it was talking to me. It was hard to see, little light came in that room, but I soon found that it was Rocky who was moaning at my appearance.

"Well a cheery hello to you too," I mumbled back. I looked around me... not much to deal with... a tiny vent leading to the outside world, no bigger than my fist, and the moonlight was casting an eerie glow from it's opening; the floor, walls, and ceiling were all made of stone; and there was a drain in the corner for- well, I think you can guess...

I then took a gander at Rocky. "Well ain't you look like you're ready for the beauty pageant?" I said jokingly. His clothes were tattered beyond their usual, he bore a fairly fresh wound on his chest, and looked very fatigued.

"This isn't a joking mater, Nack," he replied sternly. "This place has been nothing but torment and torture to me. They beat me, mock me, crush me... They made me watch as Rambo died."

I didn't respond to that. Rocky and Rambo were like brothers...so close to each other. For Rocky to have seen Rambo die would have been nothing less than torture, I am sure.

"He struggled so much," Rocky continued, voice wavering. "He didn't want to die. He wanted to live! They are murderers! Cold-blooded killers! They are going to kill us!"

"Rocky!" I yelled back as I grabbed the sobbing weasel's shoulders. "Snap out of it! This isn't going to help us at all!" He looked at me with his one eye, the other (or where the other had been... to this day I'm not sure which was the case) still hidden behind his patch. I had never seen, heard, or thought of him crying in my life... I take that back, I have once. That was when Andre nearly died in San Francisco, beaten to a bloody pulp by the Red Radishes in their hate for Rocky's gang. And now here it was again. He was reduced to tears, cryin' like a baby. He was bigger than me and always had been, but now he seemed so much smaller and weaker. I pulled him in for a hug, trying to comfort him, and I was rewarded when he wrapped his own strong arms around me.

Who knows for how long we remained like that. There was no way to tell the time, and time didn't really matter right then. Silence, pure unbroken silence as we shared each other's strength in this time of weakness was powerful enough for us. He was broken, and all I could do was help him put the pieces back together. "Why will they torture us?" I asked, breaking the silence.

"Because they hate us."

"Well, we already know that much," I replied. "They must want something from us. What is it? Information? A promise to resign from the war? Our milk-money?"

"They hate us," he repeated.

"Well, you already said that! Why?"

"Boyer's in charge here."

Ah. Ah-ha! Heh. That was not good news. Boyer was the old leader of the Red Radishes, and he hated Rocky more than he hated anyone else. No wonder the enemy was playing with him so much...  
... But what did that mean for me?

If I had known, maybe I would have just... well, I don't know. Death seemed pretty nice compared to... I don't even know how long I was there, but it felt like an eternity.

(SCENEBREAK)

Hours? I don't know... I don't know how long I was in that cell. Like I said, there was no way to tell. Dark, cold, but at least it wasn't lonely... They had taken my hat and gloves before they threw me in the cell... even went so far as to remove the boots from my feet. _Cold_ floor... sticky too. What had happened in here? Why didn't it have the slickness of a normal stone floor? Was this where Nic...?

I had plenty of time to think about it, I reckon; but I didn't. I couldn't. For one, I didn't like the image of my sister being beaten senseless when she couldn't even defend herself, or any of the other things she described; and two, I was worrying about myself and Rocky... how to get out.

But all hope of that seemed to shatter like glass on the ground.

They came in... two by two, four guards into our cell. "Oh God!" Rocky cried out, "Oh God! No! Please no!" Something he was afraid of... something about the presence of those guards. All I could do was watch as two of them took hold of him, one on each arm, and started dragging him out of the room; and I followed close behind him in the same manner.

They led us down a number of hallways. I asked a number of times where we were going, not once receiving any answer from Rocky or the ones at our sides. Did I really want to know? I doubt I did. What good would it have done me?

Our pace quickened as we approached one well-lit room at the end of a dark hallway. Bright, white light illuminated that room, which was larger than our cell and most likely more clean. Still I feared it. I couldn't tell what was inside, but I feared whatever it was. I set my feet down in an attempt to stop, but that only gave me pain in my feet; they would not stop.

Rocky was tossed into the room first, then they did the same to me. All I was aware of at that point was my cousin in front of me, doubled over holding his stomach in pain; and then there was a sickeningly painful slash on my back. It felt like a bullet had grazed deeply into my flesh or like somebody cut across my back with a hot knife. Needless to say, I cried out in surprise, terror, and pain as I leapt up into the air, only to land again and have a similar pain shoot down from my right shoulder to my lower back. This time I turned around to see my first torturer: a tough looking skunk with a chain in his hands which he had already whipped me twice with. He threw a vulgar insult at me before he swung it at me again. I tried to catch it in my left hand, but that turned out to be a horrible mistake as the chain ripped through my palm. It was then, after I felt that pain, that I noticed that every other link in the chain had a very small albeit very sharp barb on it.

I doubt that our "session" lasted very long. I could probably have counted the number of stripes they gave me on my fingers and toes... toes being kinda important to me; I only have four fingers per hand as opposed to the average 5. No, I was never a _Yakuza_, I guess it was just a genetic thing.

But when they had finished with us... I couldn't move. I didn't want to breathe. It felt like they had poured boiling oil all over my back, and I bet that Rocky felt the same way. Before I knew it, I had passed out.

(SCENEBREAK)

And before I knew it, I was awake again, and still in terrible pain. I tried to get up but found that I couldn't. The first thought that came to my head was that I was paralyzed. My arms, lets, head and neck, all were equally immobile... and then I felt it...  
Drip...

Drip...

Drip...

Why would they paralyze me when they could give me Chinese Water Torture instead? One by one, drops would fall from some water source above my head onto my head. Then they would make little rivers, flowing down from my forehead to my eyes... down my nose... in my hair... wherever they wanted to flow, and I couldn't do a thing about it but feel it, all night long.

"Rocky?" No reply. "Rocky?

"Yes?" A weak voice came to my ears. He was across the room, I guess... I couldn't see anything.

But I didn't know what to say next. Ask him if he were ok? How are we gonna get out of here? Are we gonna die? Do you- know...

Nah... I wouldn't ask him that. It wouldn't be like me. "I guess I'll see you in the morning."  
Sleep... some how I fell asleep... even though they were torturing me. I guess that this form of torture didn't bother me so much... And I don't know how long I slept for, but it didn't feel like long... All I could do was close my eyes and ignore all that was around me...  
(SCENEBREAK)  
Kazema survived well after the defeat of Akron and his fellow minion. The town which was ravaged by their bloody rule slowly but surely recovered. Kazema didn't ask for any glory; he didn't need it. All he wanted to do was live a peaceful life.

And a peaceful life he did live, and it was just as humble as it was peaceful. His dwelling place was in the side of a mountain, away from the town. He had all that he needed there; he was happy.

He lived another 45 years after that night when he fought Akron and died at a full age, and during those 45 years he did exactly what he had been doing in his earlier years: writing books filled with spells. He refused to write any that required the use of strange spirits, for he knew that they were always bad no matter how wonderful they seemed, and he often saw his contemporaries have hell to pay for not following his example. His spells focused mostly on healing and controlling the wind, as well as some forms of self-defense which he memorized just in case he got in a tight spot. But controlling the winds was his specialty... for his staff was no ordinary staff... It was the Cyclone Cane.

"I must seal these things away," he said to himself as he looked upon his Cane and books of magic. He feared both the books and the Cane, for the books contained the spells which could make the Cane an evil weapon if they fell into the wrong hands... But he had forgotten one spell which he had placed in them... one so terrible that he would have rather burned the books than simply hide them. This spell was that which would unlock Akron's grave.

The echidna dug a hole in the ground for his belongings and placed them therein before closing the grave with heavy, solid stones carved to the fashion of bricks. He smiled, feeling sure to himself that no one would disturb them in the future but that at the same time they were safe from destruction. At the same time, he knew that the Cane would have to surface again in the future, but not what purpose it would serve. For that, he could only pray.

And he lived to the age of 92.

(SCENEBREAK)

Another day, was it? I don't know. I didn't care. I just hated life it seemed. Every moment that I wasn't in chains or strapped to a tabletop, I was being beat up. It wasn't fair. I got slashed by chains, half drowned, prodded with hot pieces of metal and cubes of ice, and any other form of torture that I had even heard about... well, almost. Poor Nic wasn't so lucky...

One time, Rocky and I saw the slightest bit of light at the end of the tunnel... Boyer, the one who was in charge of our torture, ordered a small group of his men to beat us up in an unfair fight. They put us in a room and shoved us around a little bit, jeering at us and waiting for us to snap. We did eventually and a fight broke out, which was what they wanted. And suddenly, almost spontaneously, both Rocky and I disarmed two of the assailants from their nightsticks. We clubbed and clubbed and clubbed until we couldn't club no more. Rocky cracked one of their heads and two of their jaws, and I broke a good number of ribs and hands through my fight, but it was just a matter of time before someone decided to beat us, and they did so by shooting Rocky through the stomach with a laser pistol. They threatened to kill him if I didn't drop it, so I did just that. Why oh why did I do that? I bet that they would have killed us both if I kept going... that would have been a _good _ thing... or so I thought.

They slapped us both up in chains after that, hanging us from the wall with both our hands and feet held fast. I cannot tell you how mind numbingly boring and depressing that was. "Hey, look Jim!" a skunk said as he passed by us with another rat. "Here's the one who smacked your kneecap last night!"

The rat had his leg wrapped up in bandages from that. "Guess I didn't hit hard enough if you're still walking, huh?" I said quietly. He pulled out his nightstick and thrust it into my stomach at that comment. I grunted in pain, my body telling me to clutch my stomach with my arms, but I couldn't do that. All I could do was cough and sputter with my eyes clenched closed until the pain stopped being so unbearable. And when I opened them, those two were still standing there, laughing at me.

"This is one for my scrap book," the skunk smirked as he pulled out a camera and took a picture. I didn't even look into its lens.

Eventually they turned the lights out in that room. Either it was night time or they just wanted to confuse us. It didn't matter to us; we were flying blind as it was already. But it felt better to be alone than in the company of evildoers.

"Nack?" Rocky asked from his position across the room.

"Yeah?"

"I don't think that I'm gonna be able to live much longer than this."

I gave the reply that any friend would. "You have to try."

"No," he replied. "Something tells me that my time is up."

"You ok?"

"Yes... No..." He then cursed in frustration. "This whole thing has been so bad... Angel... her image haunts me every day."

What could I say? I... I didn't know. I had been haunted by dreams... Crystal was pretty much immortal now, but there were still bad images... Akron holding her up by her neck and smiling wickedly at me while she tried to get free... but Rocky had lost his wife.

"I'm sorry, Rocky... We didn't know that would happen."

"Nobody did," He replied. "I just wish I knew what we were living for... what this life was all about."

... Okay...?

"I mean," he continued, "I don't understand it. All my life I told myself that this was it... live life to the fullest before it's over... cause that's it. When you're gone, you're gone. When you die, that's the end of everything, right?"

"What do you mean?"

Rocky sighed. "Like when you die... there'll be nothing left, right? Just... nonexistence? Have you ever thought about it?"

"No," I answered.

"It's scary," he said. I closed my eyes and tried thinking about it... Nonexistence? Let's see... it's hard to put yourself in nonexistence cause, well, what is it? If you're there it has to exist, right? So already I can't really comprehend it. But still... it would be dark, cold... Dark and cold, with nothing to see or hear or feel anywhere, nothing to stand on, nothing to call up or down, no time, no friends, no family, no company, no life, no hope... endless despair. That's what I think it would be like for a mind to enter nonexistence: interminable hopelessness.

So, like any stupid weasel, I decided to try it out... just to imagine it in my own little world called my mind... see if maybe I could escape this stupid prison just for a few moments... What did I see? What did I feel? It's a precipice you look over... and you just can't see anything. Horrifying total absence of... anything. Such a thought, even for an instant, is like cold knife stabbing you in the heart, and feeling that frost. It's the embodiment of meaninglessness, worthlessness, and despair. The urge to escape is upon you instantly, but you can't see a means to do so. Look to the left and see nothing. Look to the right and see nothing. Hold your hands together... there's nothing there. Do you even have eyes to behold this? Are there ears to hear? Was there any awakening from this nightmare? After all, everyone is asked the question once in their lives... What are you afraid of? A lot of the time a person will answer it with one word... Nothing. Nonexistence is nothing, and after going there myself, I understand why so many people are afraid of nothing.

"Nack?" Rocky had been trying to wake me up from my daydream.

I opened my eyes, and it wasn't so dark anymore... well, no lights had been turned on, but it wasn't as dark as that hellhole I had just visited in my mind. "I'm glad that nonexistence isn't real," I said to him.

"Not real?" he asked. "Is there something I don't know?

... Oh boy... Did he not know? Had he not heard? ... I ain't no preacher. "I guess you could say that."

"What?" he asked with deep, desperate curiosity in his voice.

... Oh please. I must have been dreaming. "Like... uh..."

"What is it? Nack!"  
Meep. I had heard that voice before. It meant that he was gonna beat the crap outta me. I looked over to him and could see in the darkness just the outline of his body hanging on the wall. But his face was downcast, looking at the floor below which the shackles did not even allow our feet to touch.

"Rocky," I started... Gulp. I never did anything like THIS before. It wasn't like me... I mean, look at my live. On occasion, I had murdered to get money... But suddenly, as if there were a third person in the room, I heard a voice. Mama's voice...

_For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved. He that believeth on him is not condemned: but he that believeth not is condemned already, because he hath not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God._

Already condemned... Those words stuck out to me somehow... I mean, Mama had read those words out of that Book how many decades ago? Why would I remember them? ... At any rate, that's what I heard... and I remember it. So, maybe something did fall on me at this point... either tell him what I know I should, or hold my silence and, at the same time, withhold any hope from him. "Rocky... have you ever heard of the High One?"

_That night, just like any other night in that place, was filled with our tears... but this time, they were tears of joy._

(SCENEBREAK)

"Their skin will absorb it like a sponge absorbs water." Boyer's voice, that cursed French voice, spoke to one of his workers. Rocky and I hung by only our arms now, suspended in air at that. He was being held near a smooth, clear pool of acid, and I was not much farther from it than he was. It had a slightly greenish tint and gave the air a stench of rotten eggs. All we could do was hang there and wait for the punishment began. "Submerge them only up to their ankles... the acid may only cause them pain, but it easily eats away at Lithium chains." He then stepped into our view, dressed just as richly as he had been in his previous life. "Not that I care at this point if you die or not. But it would be a bit of a waste of pain if you were to die here when we all know that you could endure more. Au Revoir." With that, the weasel turned and walked out of the room.

"You heard the man," The skunk in a bored tone as he walked behind a console with a couple of levers and buttons on it. "This is gonna hurt you a lot more than it will me."

He pulled on one of the levers and the sound of machinery was heard above us. He was moving Rocky over the pool of acid, and all I could do was hang there and watch. Rocky's mind seemed to be on other things, however; his eyes (or eye, if you wanna look at it that way) suddenly darted around the room and eventually landed on me. "Nack, Nack!"

"What?"

"Nack! What is that?"

"What's what?"

His gaze was fixed on my body, or so it seemed. "That glow around you!" I looked down at my body. Sure enough, a strange golden glow was surrounding my body. For the life of me, I couldn't explain what it was. "I know what I have t' do, Nack."

The guard stood there looking at us for a few seconds, puzzled by our conversation. "Maybe they should have given you more water," he said. "You must be hallucinating." He could not see what had formed around me.

"Give 'em hell, bro," Rocky said as the machine began to slowly drop him to the pool. With a yell of determination and pain, he kicked at the surface of the pool, creating a splash of the foul liquid which was aimed at me. Startled by this, I closed my eyes and ducked my head away... but the acid never touched me. I heard him kick two or three more times before I felt it... the acid had eaten away at the chains binding my hands and I fell to the ground. I looked at Rocky as he kicked one more time, aiming for the guy behind the controls.

"My eyes! My eyes! He got my eyes!" was all I heard as the wave hit the skunk. He collapsed to his knees in pain, but not before hitting a button on the console. I watched in shock as Rocky suddenly plummeted right into the vat of acid; from feet to head.

"Rocky!" I cried out after my cousin as I ran to the pool and looked in. I could only see a bleared form of his body, the waves caused by his kicking and sudden fall into it distorting my view. For a few seconds I thought that it would be foolish to reach in after him, that I would only hurt my arm... but then I saw that the light surrounding my body was still there, so I reached in. There was no pain; the acid didn't even touch my hand. It was pushed aside by the light. I groped around in that acid with my hand for a while before I snatched him by the nape and quickly pulled him up to the dry ground.

"Speak to me, man!" I yelled down at him. He was cold to the touch and his fur was soaked by the acid as if he had just jumped into an icy lake.

"Nack," his voice came, hoarsely. His eyes lightly opened and fixed on mine... Those red eyes were peaceful for once. "Nack... He's coming... you have to go meet him."

"Who's coming?"

"Dargor."

Shadow? How did he know that Shadow was coming? ... Was he really coming here? And if so, what did that have to do with me? "Ok, Rocky..."

He pointed to a door across the room. "That way will lead you to him. Don't let us all down." And before I had a chance to say anything more to him, he went limp in my arms.

"Rocky," I mumbled. "Good ol' Rocky McCallon." Tears started to form in my eyes as I lay him on the ground then... but now was not the time to get all sentimental. The glow around me pretty well told me that... It suddenly got brighter, then dissipated into nothingness... but what it did do was heal my body from wounds and give me power in some supernatural way. I didn't understand it until I felt a strange warmth against my furred chest... the Dragon's Tear was still hanging from my neck.

I ran over and kicked the door open (The door which Rocky had pointed to, that is). Nobody was there to meet me, but someone had left a nice Sten Mark III on a desk... wonderful! I checked to see if there was any extra ammo for it but there wasn't. I wasn't upset over that though; it was far better than nothing. 32 bullets it was then, and I would use each one of them well.

I peaked around every corner as I went along. It seemed emptier than it did when they were torturing us, but hey! I found my hat a few rooms over. That made me happy. At least they didn't get rid of it. But that was the end of the emptiness of the place, cause the next corner I looked around had a guard snoozing up against a wall. I put two quick bullets in his head and quickly dragged him back around the corner. Hmm... what do you do with a corpse, you ask? How about stripping him of what he's wearing and putting on a little masquerade! Ah... I did look good in black.

I guess I blended in pretty well with the others in that place. I was even tempted to stop and share a conversation over a cup of coffee with some of them when I heard them insulting Lucretia's cooking... but maybe she had brewed the coffee.. And I had more important things to do, like getting out of there. Nobody thought about stopping me, it seemed; everything was going honky-dory, and soon the moon-lit sky was seen just ahead... through the next door... freedom...

Pit...  
Pat...  
Pit...  
Pat...

Someone was following me... some cold, evil presence... I stopped, and so did the footsteps behind me. With one quick move, I turned, aimed, and fired into the torso of whoever it was standing right behind me. The racket caused by the bullets going off now that I had removed the silencer to keep any extra suspicion from me... Aye! I thought for sure that right then I had ruined my chances of ever smelling fresh air again.

I stepped backwards as, with an audible click, the gun stopped firing, out of ammo. My jaw must have dropped at what I saw; not one of the bullets had penetrated my stalker's body, but they were all just floating there, held up as if by some magic or something! One by one, they fell to the floor harmlessly. It was then that I chose to look at his face. I had met this man before... Thornebrooke the Weasel.

"It is good to see you, Nack," He started in a rich, German accent. "Yes, good to see you in health, up and about."

I dropped the gun. How old was this vampire? He was at least 4000 years old according to Sam back when she was watching over Nic. He was very skilled; one of the most powerful people in the world.

"Surprised to see me?" He continued, taking a few more steps towards me when I didn't reply, but my anger soon found the words to say.

"You killed Nic, you monster!"

"Oh, please," he sighed. "She would have died here due to Akron's torture and her depression if it weren't for me... my kindness kept her alive. Surely she told you of it." I didn't reply. "You know, I can feel the beat of a pulse of a healthy heart from over three-hundred meters away. This place has no such thing; all of those here are heartless zombies, trapped in Akron's will... but your own healthy heart gave you away."

"Don't even think about it!"

"Oh, I wouldn't. I can only drink the blood of females. Surely you knew this. But... sadly for you... death is what you will meet here."

"Over my dead body!" Holy crap! That must have been the corniest thing I've ever said. But, I meant it, and to prove it, I rushed at him. WHAM! Something stopped me dead in my tracks and flung me to the floor! What was it? He hadn't touched me; he wasn't nearly that fast... was his power really that great? In any case, I picked myself up and started running back into the complex...

I knew that I wasn't exactly the fastest guy around, but vampires who have lived to ferment into one helluva swig are. I slammed the doors closed behind me as I ran, hoping that maybe they would buy me a second or two. Then, I came to a dead end.

I was in a good dead end, though. I found some kind of armory in the place; didn't look large enough nor exhaustive enough to be the main armory... As a matter of fact, it had a lot of medical supplies in it. I'm not sure what to call it; it was just a hodgepodge of useful stuff all placed semi-neatly in a 20x20 room.

That still didn't change the fact that a vampire was chasing me. I headed to the other side of the room, looking for anything that would help me. Guns were no good. But then I saw it... A small poll chainlinked to a spiked ball about the size of my paws when cupped together. They had kept Rocky's mace.

"Here is where you die," Thornebrooke's voice came from behind me. "Congratulations to you for having made it this far, however."

A thousand thoughts went through my head right then. What was I going to do? Fight him and distract him a bit, then pick the mace and use it? No... Fighting against a vampire that old and skilled is suicide. Take it now and try hitting him as I spun around? Hmm... So many factors... gotta throw it right... with enough strength and just high enough, hit him in his left side...And to do it all in one fluid motion... very risky. What other choice did I have? Running? According to Sam, they loved it when their prey did that; it made the hunt more fun for them. I thought about the mace again and there was a warm feeling under the shirt that I had stolen. The Dragonflame... I was not destined to die here; I was not going to mess up.

With as much speed as I could get my body to throw out, and as much strength as I could summon, I reached down, took the handle of the mace, and as I was spinning around to Thornebrooke, I swung the spiked ball. I saw it coming in quick toward his side, and I was sure that it was gonna hit...

Thornebrooke literally bent over backwards to avoid getting hit, and the ball soared harmlessly over his body. But I was not entirely caught off guard. Before I let the ball lose any momentum, I redirected its path into an overhead swing, and this time I brought it down solidly on Thornebrooke's chest. He cried out in pain as the spikes penetrated his chest and the ball smashed him. Poor guy; I broke his heart.

I watched him for a few moments as he sputtered on the ground for a few moments, almost unsure what had hit him. For good measure, I put the toe of my shoe carefully on the ball and pushed down. If I hadn't pierced his heart in the initial shot, I had now. The curse of vampirism on his body had been broken, and now his true age quickly showed through. His flesh turned to black ash and all that remained was a 4000 year old skeleton. Thornebrooke was defeated. Nic, you are avenged.

After I had finished marveling at what had just happened, I took the mace and headed for the door out of that room which Thornebrooke had closed behind us. Nobody, and I mean nobody, was gonna get between me and the outside world. But then, as I grabbed the doorknob and began to turn it, a flame shot through the door at my hand with such force that it knocked be down to the ground. As I crashed to the cold, hard stones, I cried out in pain and shock, for something had just blown that door right off its hinges. Looking up, I saw just what I didn't need to see: Shadow the Hedgehog.

He was standing there with a strange sword in his hand... Yes, it was a Blade of Flames! He had hit me with it and cut my arm pretty bad. I didn't have time to inspect it, but it burned fiercely. Still, I didn't have time to focus on that. As quickly as I could, I got to my feet, ready to fight with what I had left. I held the mace in my right hand now, and it would be an awkward weapon to use with only one hand.

"I thought that there would be trouble here tonight," he said in a tone that communicated that I had messed up.

"Let me go, I've had enough of this place!"

He only laughed... well, that is he laughed until he saw what was left of Thornebrooke across the room. "What have you done?!"

I gave no answer, but took the time he was using to speak to wrap my shirt around my burned and bleeding arm. Again he asked me, this time with a lot of anger in him.

"I killed him when he attacked me." Simple enough.

"Your time is up!" he yelled as he ran towards me. Now that was something I wasn't expecting right then and I raised the handle of the mace up just in time to stop him from cutting me right down the center. Over and over again he slashed at me, and I either blocked or dodged each one, all the while wondering how it was that the handle of the mace wasn't breaking. I wanted to swing back against him so bad, but he was just too fast!

With one strong blow, he broke my hold on the stick, and I had to drop it or else break my fingers trying to hold on. So there I stood, bleeding and defenseless, and he could see that as well as I felt it. "Any last words?"

"It doesn't end here, Shadow," was what I replied. He smiled and took one more swipe at me, aiming to cut me down from the shoulder. I jumped back, the blade of that sword coming oh-so close to me. I thought for a second that he had hit me in the back of the neck somehow; that's what it felt like. But a split second later, I knew what it was. In my jump backwards, he had sliced through the chain which was holding the Dragonflame around my neck. Time seemed to slow down dramatically as both of us looked at it. Seemed like minutes on end that the thing was falling to the floor; every twist that the strange jewel made was perfectly visible. So beautiful it was... a colorful flame inside of a crystal prison. What was the purpose of such a pretty gem?

When it hit the floor, we all found out. The Dragonflame exploded open, engulfing Shadow, me, the prison walls, everything that I was aware of in that moment. A furious heat that I knew was going to destroy me washed over my body... and then everything went black as night.

(SCENEBREAK)

"I'm happy to see you again, Nack the Weasel." Some familiar voice came to my ears suddenly, but I couldn't quite put my finger on whose voice it was. Did it matter? I was dead. I mean... I had to have been. I blinked my eyes a few times, things around me becoming clearer and not nearly as dark as they had been. It felt like I was awakening from a dream.

I was lying on my back in some strange place, and almost instantly I knew where I was. "Aresius?" I called out as I sat up. I was being careful with my left arm because I didn't wanna hurt it... but then I noticed that it was not wounded. As a matter of fact, I wasn't wounded in any way. I felt and looked like I had just stepped out of a nice warm shower back when I lived in Texas.

"I am here," Aresius said from behind me. I looked over my shoulder and he was indeed there, standing. He looked as if he hadn't changed in all the years that it had been since I saw him last, but I guess that wasn't too surprising.

"Where am I?" I asked as I got to my feet and faced him. I also noticed that I had my hat, gloves, belt, and boots back.

"Are you sure you want to ask me that question again after the answer you got last time?" Heh... He was right, and I guess I looked a bit more sheepish right then.

"Well then... why am I here?"

"You are here because of what just happened back at Akron's outpost."

"What did happen? What did the Dragonflame do? How did it not kill me? Just what in the heck is going on and how do I fit in to this now?"

He did not delay in his answer. "The Dragonflame has served its purpose, and that was to help you live past that night as you tried to escape the outpost. While it did kill many of Akron's forces, your body was unharmed, for the Dragonflame burned not only in that glass but is also burning in your heart." He paused for a moment and then seemed to change the subject a bit. "The Dragonflame not only consumed that place, but it engulfed the entire planet of Mobius as you know it."

That sent a shiver down my spine. "What?"

"The planet was not destroyed as you might think it would have been after being exposed to so much power. However, it will leave a definite impact on your world until this war is over."

"What is that?"

"Certain things have been changed so that the final hours of the war may be fought to a resolution."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing for us?"

He paused to think for a few moments before answering me. "When weighing out the advantages gained by both sides of this war, I believe strongly that it is your side that will have a much larger advantage. A few of these advantages you will see after you leave this place."

It didn't make sense. What did it all mean, "advantages?" What could be given to us that would allow us to be able to fight more against Akron and Lucretia? "I just don't understand," I said, looking down a bit. "This war... so many dying and so many suffering... so long and so much to lose... are we going to win?"

"The war is finally drawing to a close, but there are still so many factors between here and there; so much is there, so much to fear. In the end, everything comes down to exactly what everything has been following from its beginning..."

"What's that?"

"Choice. Decision. But at the same time, you are running the course of destiny. It was by no luck that the Dragonflame fell into your hands and thus protected you up to the time you escaped from the lair in which you were trapped. In the same way, it was Nova's choice to let herself die rather than let you get hit, even if it was a foolish choice. She never thought that the Dragonflame would protect you even in those moments."

"But we didn't know what it would do, what power it had... not even me... how was she supposed to have known?"

"It is always better to ask what it is you want to know rather than trying to figure out through experience, even if there are certain things that will only be gained through just that."

"So it's my fault for not knowing...?" He nodded. "Then maybe it's time I asked some more questions." Again, he nodded. "What choice, as you put it, is good enough to end this war?"

"You know what choice that is."

"Excuse me?" I asked after a moment of silence.

"I told you before you left this place the first time that dreams sometimes stand for something much more than just dreams."

I was confused. What was he saying? What was he implying? ... But at the same time, I knew.

Aresius continued: "The question is if or ifn't you are going to chose to end this war. Indeed, it is the only way."

"But I don't even know what it all meant... Most of those dreams I still don't understand."

"A short amount of time will answer those doubts for you."

I nodded. "When do I leave this place?"

"As soon as you take this," he said, stepping off to the side and reveling a sword trapped by its blade in the platform of light which we had been standing on, much like the Emerald Sword had been all those years ago.

"What is it?" I asked before I chose to go to it.

"It is an ancient sword, duly named the Ice Sword. It has a strength which parallels that of the Emerald Sword, but this blade will never strike Akron down. Still, it will help you today."

I stepped to it, grabbed its handle, and pulled it from the platform. Instantly a refreshing coldness filled my entire body, caught me quite by surprise. I took that time to look at it. It was long and thin, but deadly sharp. It was also perfectly clear blue, as if water, but it did not have the feeling of melting ice. It was totally dry. Both the blade and the handle were like this.

"Thank you," I said. "I won't lose this one."

"Please don't," he replied. "I wish you good will and courage in this time when you need it most.

"Thank you," I repeated, and soon the area around me faded away to darkness again.

(SCENEBREAK)

"Nack!" another voice came to my ears as I lay "asleep" again. This voice sounded even more familiar; it was Andre. "Nack! Wake up!"

He was shaking me roughly, so much that I thought something must have been trying to kill him, so I got up quickly and looked around. Those of you who know what it's like to be roused suddenly from a deep, peaceful sleep in such a manner know how I felt right then. I sat back down (on the ground I found out as I did so), yawned, and stretched a bit, giving my nerves a few moments to catch up with me. "What is it, Andre?"

"Nack! What are you doing here? We all thought you were dead!"

I chose to stand up when I decided that I could. "Of course I'm dead, Andre. Did you forget that I'm a ghost?"

"I don't know, Nack," He said, as if not affected by my joke. "A lot of really weird stuff has been happening the past few hours... Nobody understands it."

I looked around a bit. We seemed to be in a cold place now; a light fog was in the air. It was also night-time and hard to see. We were surrounded by a lot of big, tall buildings, in some alley it seemed. Around us was what seemed to be a big city, but it was totally quiet, as if nobody was there. But the most intriguing of all these things was a flame a few feet away from me. It was a fierce flame, and inside was the silhouette of a hedgehog... Shadow the Hedgehog. He looked like he was dead.

"Where are we?" I asked at last.

"We spent a long time trying to confirm that what we thought we were seeing is true," he began with what appeared to be a big grin trying to show through his confusion and fear. "But we have finally confirmed it... Nack, we're in San Francisco!"

"San Francisco?!" ... Wow... Talk about advantages. How did Aresius put us smack-dab in the middle of San Francisco like this?

"The officers and all of our forces are here too, in and around Union Square about a mile from here. Do you have any idea what's going on? Because if you do, everyone's gonna want to see you as soon as they hear you're alive and here." Fun.

"Yeah. I guess I know a bit of what's going on... Andre, the war's going to end here, soon..."

I guess I shouldn't have said that, cause the next thing I knew, he was a-jumpin' and a-shoutin' and a-huggin' me and pretty much kissin' me as well. I was gonna push him off and tell him to calm down, but... ah, it is San Francisco after all.

"Thornebrooke's dead."

"Yeah, we heard! That hedgehog , Samantha..."

I laughed. "After being trapped in such a curse for so long, I bet she must have shouted for joy."

"Yeah," he said, nodding with a sigh. "I just wish it had happened before Nic..."

"So do I, bro... so do I."

There was a bit of a silence after that. Nic had been avenged, but that didn't bring her back. Nothing could. She was lost to Mobius. "Don't worry, Andre... I'll get Akron and Lucretia for this, too."

"Thanks, Nack... Still... how did we get here?"

"It's supernatural," was all I said.

"Supernatural? That's impossible..."

"Why's that?" A voice came from one end of the alleyways, another familiar voice at that. "You're here, why not believe him?"

"Who's there?" Andre called out, paling in fear.

Another, feminine voice came from the opposite direction. "Don't worry, Andre. We're here to lend a helping hand.

We were standing at an intersection, so it only made sense that we would get trapped in by two more coming from the other street. All we could hear was there voices; their bodies were very hard to see in the darkness. "Nack, Andre," the first one started, "don't you believe in ghosts?"

The second, another female: "In spirits?"

The first male again: "In the supernatural realm?"

The first female: "In the invisible..."

The second male continuing on the first female's line: "Strongly influencing the physical?"

Second female: "Don't you believe in the nonexistence of nonexistence?"

"Yes, I do!" With that, I drew the Ice Sword, which until that point I had no idea that it was hanging at my side like it was.

"Put the sword away, Nack. You don't need it yet." The first said.

"Then show yourselves!" I barked.

I turned, expecting for the first one to show himself first. After a few moments in pause, he did. I beheld his presence with my mouth agape, jaw slackened in utter shock at what I saw. Impossible... Incredible... Baffling and wonderful. Who would have known? I didn't. But man alive was it a good sight. I almost expected for it all to fade away into dreamdom, some mirage created by hope. But mirages aren't a mutual thing between persons, so if Andre was seeing what I was seeing...

"What's the matter, Nack?" Nick asked, with a grin. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

To be concluded...

Chapter 10  
Dawn of Victory


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